To Spite the Shadow
by Rhysand-vs-Fenrys
Summary: Nearly a year has passed since Aelin and Rowan destroyed the forces of Maeve and Erawan. Terrasen is rebuilding, Aelin is healing, and the world is finally at peace. Rowan conspires with Lysandra to give his mate a rest from her Queenly duties.


**To Spite the Shadow**

"Your husband is an idiot," Gavriel said by way of greeting.

"Agreed," Aelin sat down on the hedge wall above her uncle and stared up at the circling hawk.

She'd noticed him during a torturous meeting with Darrow and Aedion. For hours, the two males bickered over military budget while the Queen of Terrasen honed her ability to completely tune out Darrow's voice

.Aedion wanted to cancel the military's contracts with civilian merchants so that the families of soldiers stationed in Terrasen's fortresses would have more work opportunities. His plan would free up guild blacksmiths, merchants, and artisans to aid the rebuilding efforts. It would also cost at least double their yearly budget to establish.

Aelin agreed with Aedion- if only to piss off Darrow. She was determined to give the old bastard a heart attack sooner rather than later. Still, the windbag obsessed over every last tiny detail of the plan while Rowan circled… and circled… and circled.

Aedion and Darrow finally agreed to exactly half the budget her cousin demanded as late morning turned towards midday. Aelin fled before any new discussions could begin, grabbed an apple from the main dining hall, and went out into the gardens of Orynth to climb a wall and find the perfect view of her feathered mate.

"He's making me dizzy." Gavriel huffed. He wasn't looking at Rowan, instead he was focused on working through the imported supply lists of Terrasen's military- his own piece of Aedion's project would be to establish new supply lines.

"What is he even doing?" Aelin nudged her uncle with a toe, "You got your funding by the way. The full amount."

"Meaning Aedion was right that Darrow would only grant half whatever we asked for. Good boy," he chuckled to himself.

"He gets it from his mother."

"Without a doubt," Gavriel nodded and at last looked up at Rowan. "It's his anniversary. It puts a buzz in everyone's blood."

Aelin skimmed through significant dates from Rowan's life and found nothing. In a month he would leave for the continent (without Aelin) to pay his respects at the tomb of Lyria and their unborn child. When the anniversary of his blood-oath to Maeve came around, he intended to volunteer and help the butchers prepare meat (just so he could stab and skin something). Rowan and Aelin had more anniversaries to celebrate than most (the day they met, the festival where they fell in love, their wedding, their reunion after Maeve's torture, and the day they were crowned Queen and Queen-Consort of Terrasen), but the soonest of those was still a long way out.

"I'm coming up blank."

"IT'S HIS BIRTHDAY YOU HEARTLESS WENCH!" Fenrys shouted from the other side of a hedge.

"No it's not." Aelin snorted. She knew her own mate's birthday (even if she had to force him to tell her in the first place).

"No, it's not." Gavriel wadded up a piece of paper and threw it in the general direction of Fenry's voice.

He knew he likely missed the wolf by a few feet, but his surrogate brother offered an overly dramatic, "CASUALTY IN THE GARDEN! TELL THE WOMEN OF ORYNTH NOT TO WEEP TOO LONG OVER MY COFFIN, LEST THEIR HUSBANDS BECOME SUSPICIOUS!" before going back to the book he was reading.

Gavriel rolled his eyes, "To answer your question Aelin, it's the anniversary of his settling."

"Wait- what?" Aelin was more likely to believe Fenry's lie than that, "He's fae."

"Wow." Fenrys said.

"Aelin, one day you and Rowan will give me a grand niece or nephew. Did you honestly think you'll be giving birth to a fully grown fae?"

Her cheeks turned red, "NO. I just didn't think you… settled. Not the way I did at least."

It felt like being punched in the stomach when it happened. Aelin was unfortunately in human form at the moment, trying to wander Orynth in some sort of disguise. With only a few moments of discomfort to serve as a warning, her body was ripped apart and her fae form rushed to replace it. Rowan and the others had assured her her settling would be an incredible experience- but they'd expected her to already be in fae form when it came… and it came early. That was mere weeks ago, and still the memory made her shudder.

"No, we manage it with a bit more grace than you," Gavriel chuckled. "Fae age the same rate human children do. Babes don't suckle at their mother's breast until they're thirty."

"Of course not," Fenrys snorted from his secluded seat, "by then I was suckling at other women's breasts."

Once more, a wadded up piece of paper laid Fenrys low in agonizingly dramatic fashion.

"So Rowan is flying in circles because a few centuries ago today he hit puberty?" Aelin cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted up at the circling bird, "DRAMA KING!"

A falcon's screech was his reply as he suddenly changed directions and angled down towards the garden.

"No," her uncle chuckled and turned back to his work, "he's circling because his blood is hot and you were otherwise engaged."

The gray falcon flashed and a fae warrior dropped to the ground. He was wearing a rich blue tunic that offset his piercing eyes- eyes that zeroed in on Aelin with an intensity she loved.

"Poor horny baby bird," Aelin cupped his cheeks as soon as he was within range, interrupting whatever he was about to say to her.

Rowan blinked twice, frowned, and leaned over to swat Gavriel up the back of his head, "Stop telling people that."

It was Aelin's turn to look surprised, "So… this isn't the anniversary of your settling?"

"Is that what he said?" Rowan hit Gavriel again, "He always makes up something. Last time he claimed it was the anniversary of me losing my 'maidenhead'."

Fenrys snickered from behind his hedge.

"Don't worry, I keep an alphabetized list of each one, so it's never the same story twice," Gavriel smiled innocently.

Aelin rolled her eyes and pulled Rowan away from his friend, back towards the castle, "Why were you really circling then?"

"There's a storm coming tonight, a southern squall from the taste of the wind." Rowan shrugged, "Some royal pain in the ass slept on my arm last night, so my shoulder was a bit knotted. I figured I'd work it out while I was up there."

"Which reminds me-" Aelin turned and tapped Rowan's bicep, "you need to eat more junk food. I like softer pillows."

Her mate chuckled, "Well luckily you don't have to change at all. I like lead weights on my arm."

"Are you calling me hard-headed?" she shot him a glare.

"Oh good, I was worried that would be too subtle."

Aelin opened her mouth to quip back and Rowan ducked down for a fast, hard kiss. He trapped her lips with his own and dared to dart his tongue between her parted teeth- trusting that she wouldn't try to bite him. When Aelin leaned into the kiss and slid her own tongue into his mouth, he pulled back and left his wife warm and wanting.

"That's not fair, I have a council meeting in ten minutes!" She dug a thumb into Rowan's side.

"What's not fair? Oh- is the Queen-Consort not allowed to kiss the Queen whenever he wants? Can you write out a schedule for me? Or should I ask Darrow for a cue when it's an appropriate time?"

"I should have known Gavriel was full of it," Aelin shook her head, "there's no way you went through puberty yet."

"Settling isn't puberty."

"I've noticed."

"So have I."

They both shot one another looks of mock fury before Aelin's mask cracked and she started to laugh. Rowan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and laughed along with her as they walked towards their chambers- chambers that currently housed the council meeting hall.

Orynth still had a long way to go before it was a fully functional city- which was precisely why Aedion was guaranteed the funds for his project. Every guild was stretched to its limits trying to provide enough materials for the extensive rebuilds, and with the collapse of Doranelle, there were thousands more fae arriving on Terrasen's shores each month.

For temporary housing, Aelin had opened the mostly-intact palace as a place of residence. Food was served mess-style in the Great Hall three times a day, and most of those who would remain in Orynth's palace indefinitely were living with abbreviated chambers so that others might be utilized for storage, laundry, cooking, or housing. There were endless grumbles from her council of advisors (especially Darrow), but Aelin rather loved the overwhelming crush of life in the halls.

To be fair though, she and her mate were perhaps the only ones the crowds parted for (unless Lysandra was in snow leopard or basilisk forms).

No matter how crowded the halls, every woman, female, man, male, and child did their best to make room for Aelin and Rowan with bowed heads and small gestures of fealty or honor for the couple. They, perhaps even more than their friends, were responsible for the fall of Maeve and Erawan, and the architects of the new peace that filled the world.

"Queen Aelin, Prince Rowan," the murmurs were constant around them.

Most Queens and their husbands walked together yet apart- with the consort remaining a step or two behind. Not Aelin and Rowan (unless the crowds were really dense). Her arm found its way around his hips while his continued to hold her shoulder with the easy standing of a married couple.

Aelin led Rowan up higher and higher into the palace, towards what should have been just their suite of rooms. For now though the large foyer that housed the council's meeting table was merely a central space off of which Aelin and Rowan lived. Lysandra and Aedion had graciously agreed to share a bedroom on the other side of the chamber, with Elide and Lorcan in what would normally have been a private dining room. Aelin was more than happy to share a closet with Lysandra and Elide, and being the Queen's Chambers, every suite had its own bathroom (even the private dining room had a small washroom attached).

Darrow naturally objected to anyone giving up their rooms, but Lysandra, Aedion, Elide, and Lorcan's private chambers were housing nearly two dozen families alone. Until houses could be repaired or built, every last foot of space was too precious to squander.

"Alright, let's get this over with." Aelin said as guards opened the doors to the council room, "What the h-"

Rowan lightly pushed Aelin into the room and shut the door behind them.

There was no one in the council chamber.

Before Aelin could turn to snap at her husband for his push, he'd come up behind her and wrapped his arms around her toso. He moved her forward with small steps until her hips were pinned against the edge of the table.

"You've been working too hard," Rowan whispered in Aelin's ear. He pulled her hair aside and nipped at her earlobe, "Lysandra is leading the council meeting from the southern courtyard. If anyone asks- you felt like spending a day outside."

"Did I now?" Aelin grinned and slid her hand to Rowan's- following it as he pressed against her core through the thick fabrics and underskirts of her dress, "So my uncle wasn't too far off when he said you were horny."

"In my defense, I don't think a day goes by where I'm not thinking about how to get you undressed," Rowan whispered. He kept Aelin pinned against the council table and started fishing around her skirts, lifting the fabric as much as he could. "Lys is the only one who knows you're not at that meeting. Aedion and Lorcan will figure it out pretty quickly, but she's going to make sure Darrow has plenty of time to rant."

Aelin grinned- Lysandra had turned pissing off Darrow into a talent while she was posing as the Queen of Terrasen. Lys' goal was to give him a fatal stroke inside two years.

Rowan's hand found Aelin's bare leg at last. As he straightened up, his thumbnail scraped against the inside of her knee, her thigh, higher, until-

Just before his thumb touched her folds, Rowan's hand slid out from between her legs and instead wrapped around Aelin's thigh towards her front. She was about to growl a warning at her mate when two fingers slid across her mound- the other hand she'd lost track of. Rowan had distracted her with one while the other found its own way into her skirts and stood poised, ready to strike.

She let out a breathless sigh as his fingers parted her and he gently stroked the hood of her clit, daring it to come out and play.

"I love you," Rowan whispered in her ear as his fingers danced and stroked.

"I love you too." Aelin turned her head and captured her husband's mouth with her own. This time he let her tongue slide across his and did nothing to break the kiss. His fingers continued to strum beneath her skirts, with the occasional swipe between her lips to monitor the building moisture there.

Rowan was in no hurry, and every movement made that clear. His pace remained casual and rhythmic, his touch never leaning towards insistent or hungry. Aelin reached behind her and rubbed the front of his pants, massaging him as he made her toes curl inside her shoes.

"Can I?" Rowan broke the kiss to breathe in her ear.

"Yes."

His hands slid out from her skirts, letting the layers of silk and tulle fall back towards the ground. Rowan's lips traced the curve of Aelin's neck as he swept her hair aside and began to undo the laces of her gown. He kept her pinned against the table edge as he lifted the fabric over her head and discarded it by the door.

Aelin wasn't one to wear a corset, no matter how fashionable they may be. Still, goosebumps rose on her arms as Rowan loosened her bodice and freed her from her prison. Rowan growled at the too-tight fabric before flinging it aside to gently scratch Aelin's back.

"It reminds me not to slouch," she chided him. Aelin managed to reach one of his hands and pulled it around front to give some attention to her breasts. They were always extra sensitive at their first gasp of freedom. Rowan's touch wasn't designed to arouse her, but to sooth any aches the bodice might have left.

"As long as you know every last inch of you is perfect."

Rowan was waging his own private war against fashion. After everything Aelin went through to defeat Maeve and Erawan once and for all, he wasn't about to let someone tell her her hips were too wide or her chest not crushed enough to look "queenly". When Darrow had tried to insist Aelin wear a corset to her coronation, Rowan almost bit his head off.

"My ribs were hurting a bit this morning," Aelin confessed. "The pressure from the bodice helps."

"Do we need to call the doctors again? Or Yrene?" his hands flattened out against her sides and Rowan pulled her tighter against him, giving her whatever pressure he could.

"It was one bad morning. The pain faded hours ago," she told him the truth, for the most part. An hour ago still counted as 'hours', right?

Maeve and Cairn had ripped Aelin's body to shreds, and broken more bones than Rowan thought possible. There was lingering damage, there might always be- but they dealt with the still-healing nerves one day at a time. Yrene kept steady correspondence, and if Aelin was confined to her bed for too many days in a row, she made a special trip to Orynth to oversee the Queen's care personally.

"We don't have to do this right now if you think it'll start something up again," Rowan murmured as he cradled her.

She'd taken him up on that offer a few times, actually. Sometimes when her muscles erupted with her orgasm it set off a spasm in her hips or ribcage. Rowan had become deft at giving her softer releases (or as she called them 'disappointment orgasms') that at least took the edge off of her own desires.

"I'm fine. I promise. I think the stretches Yrene taught me are helping. The pain doesn't last as long anymore."

"Good." Yrene had sent word to a healer in Tigana- the southernmost city of the Southern Continent- who specialized in the stretch-meditations of the old Xian Empire. One of her acolites was a master in his own right and would make the long journey to Terrasen with his family in late summer. Yrene had enough hope to make even Rowan optimistic that the new exercises might ease or even cure Aelin's discomfort.

"I'm not made of glass," she growled when her husband's hands lingered too long on her ribs. Rowan needed reminding every now and then.

"Sorry." He nuzzled her cheek and gently lifted away her shift.

Cool air kissed her skin and made her smile as Rowan's mouth found its way to her neck once more. Her breasts were fully exposed, and peaked thanks to both Rowan's attention and the removal of the bodice.

Yrene had knocked Aelin out and skinned her alive to remove the thick, painful knots of scar tissue left behind by Cairn's whip. Magic and herbs combined to regrow the skin and while some scars remained, they were slivers of silvery-white against her usual golden tan.

Rowan bent down to kiss those scars, each inked with part of the Old Language to tell the story of their victory. His lips brushed along Aelin's spine, across the red marks left behind where her bodice was tight, and slowly spun his wife so that he could once more claim her lips.

While he enjoyed removing her clothing one deliberate layer at a time, Aelin was nowhere near as patient. She tugged his tunic and undershirt off in one fluid motion. Their lips barely parted before Rowan was upon her once more. He was willing to sacrifice the ability to hold her perfect breasts if it meant he could feel them pressing against him while they kissed.

Rowan wanted nothing more than to push Aelin down on that table and make love to her then and there- but neither of them would put Aedion's nose through such trauma on their next proper council meeting.

So long as these living arrangements lasted, there was a strict "No sex in common spaces" policy.

Still, there was something Rowan had always fantasized about, and he couldn't take Aelin into their bedroom without trying it at least once.

Aelin gasped as Rowan stopped and spun her around. They were near the corner of the table, and he shifted her body until it was in position. Rowan gently pushed her forward and then bent her over until her top half was laying on the table with that corner pressed against the knot between her legs (albeit through the fabric of her underskirts, to protect Aedion's delicate nose).

Rowan kissed and bit at the skin of her back once more. His hand found its way beneath her skirt. This time, after a couple of swipes through her dripping core, he slid two fingers into her hot, slick depths.

She cried out at the sensation as every gentle rock of those fingers inside her made the table corner grind against her knot. Her toes were straining inside her shoes, and it was only with their assistance that she was able to stand.

Until Rowan kicked both shoes away from her feet.

The table dug harder against her knot. Aelin let out a cry and pushed herself back- not to escape the table, but to force Rowan's fingers into her harder, faster. He chuckled and eased a third finger into her body. Aelin parted her legs further to accommodate it, and she moaned so loudly that Rowan wondered for a moment if she'd come just from that.

He gave her time to adjust to the addition and stepped aside slightly, turning his hand so that he could reach an inner patch of ridged, hard skin that was twin to the hard knot of nerves receiving so much attention from the table.

"Slow or fast?" Rowan rested a hand on Aelin's back and felt her trembling.

"Fast," she breathed, rolling her hips against his touch.

"Don't burn the table."

"No promises."

Rowan slid his hand up to Aelin's shoulder where he took a firm grip. He pulled his fingers almost completely from her before sliding them back in. His pace was measured, patient. Aelin cried out each time she was pushed forward. Instinct had her lifting her legs to wrap around his body, but he wasn't standing in the right spot for that to work. He gave her a few moments for her legs to realize their efforts were for naught.

Gradually, and always with an ear to Aelin's gasps and cries, Rowan's hand picked up speed. He listened to the greedy, wet sound of her entrance as his fingers plunged in and out faster- faster.

Her breathing was shallow and rapid as the table rocked against her knot. At least some of its force was absorbed by her still-present clothing and if she had the words to speak she would have begged Rowan to rip her skirts and put her fully in contact with that brutal, wonderful source of pleasure.

Aelin couldn't hold back her release for very long, especially not once Rowan reached his peak speed and the air filled with the sounds of his fingers, her cries, and his groan of approval. Rowan could cum just from playing with her- though neither had any intention of waiting that long to be joined.

"I'm-" Aelin gasped at the shudder the wracked her body.

"Cum for me." Rowan growled.

He felt her core spasm around his fingers and released her shoulder so that he could kneel. Rowan pulled the back of her skirts down just far enough to breathe in her scent and feel the small droplets of moisture as he dug his fingers in as hard and fast as he could. Every time he plunged them into her he made sure they scraped across that rough patch of skin hard enough to make her legs tremble.

"That's it." His voice was rough as she tensed more and more, "Cum."

Aelin screamed and suddenly the tension around his fingers broke, turning into a rapid shudder. While Rowan never stopped the drive of his hand, he pulled her back away from the table's edge just far enough to wrap his lips around her knot and deliver more targeted attention.

Her back arched and her legs kicked as Aelin was burned beneath a burning wave of raw pleasure. Fire roared beneath her skin, but she diverted all of her focus to holding it in check- even though it was all but impossible once Rowan's mouth joined the fray. He kept her orgasm going as long as he could, and almost longer than she could stand.

Finally, Aelin's legs stopped trembling, her body fell limp and loose, and Rowan very slowly withdrew his hand. The motion earned pitiful whimpers from his wife, who's oversensitive core protested any motion.

Rowan gave her a few moments to catch her breath while he licked her release from his hand. Only when she turned herself over and sat up did he scroop her into his arms, lift her off the table, and carry her towards their bedroom.

"That was a strong one, are you still alright?" Rowan murmured as he pressed soft kisses to Aelin's temple.

"Nothing hurts," she whispered, leaning in towards his chest.

"Alright," he had about a hundred variations of 'are you sure' on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them all. Though Aelin fought through physical recovery, Rowan's injuries had long since healed. His scars were emotional, and while he still needed to be near Aelin as often as possible, he was cautious not to smother her with his own fears and worries.

"Nothing hurts," she repeated with a kiss to his collar-bone.

"Alright." This time he managed to say it with a bit more confidence, and Aelin could no longer hear the unasked questions hanging in the air.

Rowan carried Aelin into their room. She kept her sigh in check- he was carrying her gently and would no doubt set her down with as much care.

Her husband hesitated by the bed for a moment, reading her with his piercing eyes and sensing as much as he could through their mating bond. Without warning or comment, he tossed her into the air and let her crash onto the bed with a squeal of surprise and rage.

"Not glass," Rowan shrugged once she'd finally untangled herself from her skirts to shoot him a dirty look.

Despite her exposed fangs as Aelin launched herself at Rowan, he felt her happiness shining down their bond. He couldn't force himself to stop worrying, but he could roughhouse with his mate if she wanted it.

Aelin tackled Rowan hard enough to knock him off his feet. He landed hard on a thick forest-green rug. Rowan didn't even have time to process that he was on his back before he felt his pants and shoes ripped away all at once.

"OK, treat me a little bit like glass," he laughed as Aelin's hands closed around his shaft.

She let saliva drip from her mouth onto his shaft, spreading it around with her hands until he was prepared well enough. Aelin fixed Rowan with a dark glare as lowered her lips to the tip of his cock.

Soft flesh brushed against her mouth and Rowan tensed. Aelin took his member expertly down her throat- and though she let her teeth scrape against it to ride that edge between pleasure and pain, she didn't revenge herself on his shaft.

Salty precum beaded against her tongue as she pulled away from his cock. Aelin never released Rowan entirely though- she slid the point of her tongue through the seam of its head with enough force to draw a quaking hiss.

Aelin alternated between sliding her tongue through the slit at his head and lightly scraping her teeth across it. She traced along the hard edge of his veins and stroked whatever didn't fit in her mouth. Rowan fell back onto the carpet and touched a shaking hand to Aelin's head as she moved.

A constant stream of curses and murmurs came from his mouth. His hips bucked slightly each time she teased the head of his cock, and yet he resisted the urge to hold her head and fuck it in earnest. She was taking her time- as he had when he bent her over the table.

Rowan's breathing hitched, but Aelin kept the same pace. Most females would have released their male before he came and finished him by hand, but Aelin preferred to keep going. Rowan never let her climax without his mouth on her and so she would give her mate the same courtesy.

"Aelin," Rowan whispered a warning. The rolling of his hips was more pronounced, and the hand on her head was pushing her down slightly with every stroke.

"Not glass," she released him long enough to say those two words before returning to his cock- this time a little slower than before. She was taunting him- daring him.

So Rowan did what she wanted. He took her head between his hands and guided her down harder, faster. He felt her angle her tongue push against the underside of his shaft, but he didn't let her pull out far enough to tease the head any more. A wicked smile lit her eyes when he glanced down and Rowan couldn't help but grin in return.

He felt something inside him tense up, his cock stiffened just a little more with anticipation and Rowan pushed into Aelin's throat hard and fast one last time before he erupted.

Her throat rippled around him while she swallowed rope after rope of hot cum. Rowan released her head, but she didn't release one inch of him. His hips strained towards her with the same desperate fervor she had as she came.

Rowan drew a hard, shuddering breath once the last splash of cum hit her throat. While his heart raced and his blood heated once more, Aelin cleaned his shaft and wiped her face off on the fabric of her underskirts- which she promptly removed.

Without any care for his lingering presence in her mouth, Rowan sat up and drew Aelin in to a hard, passionate kiss. She tasted herself still on his tongue, and he found his own release on hers, but they embraced their combined flavor- the flavor of mates.

Aelin's core was hot and dripping again. Rowan needed a few moments for his cock to wake, so he carried her to the bed and laid her down amongst the pillows and cushions- this time with the gentleness he'd ignored before.

She parted her legs so that he could settle between them. Rowan released Aelin's mouth to trail kisses down her throat, across her chest, and finally towards the peak of her breasts.

He took as much into his mouth as he could as Aelin moaned and ground herself against his still-limp cock. She reached down to stroke it back to life while Rowan nipped and licked at her breasts, alternating between the two at random. They were so soft, and so wonderfully sensitive when she was aroused.

Rowan was barely hard again when Aelin guided his cock to her entrance and slid him in as far as she could (which amounted to only an inch or so). He chuckled at her impatience and wrapped his lips around a nipple, pulling her breast with him as he slid up and into her body. He kept the peaked flesh in his mouth as long as he could, drawing a pleasantly undignified noise from deep in her throat.

She wanted him to harden inside her, where she could feel every inch of him moving and stiffening. Aelin writhed beneath Rowan as he slid in more and more with every roll of his hips. She was as full as could be, and yet she knew before he was fully erect there would be so much more.

One drunken night before Manon and Dorian's wedding, she'd admitted to Aelin and Lysandra that her favorite way to bed Dorian was with him seated in one entrance with a stone cock filling the other. The thought stuck in Aelin's head, though she had no interest whatsoever in exploring anal sex. Just the concept of being filled so much- Rowan alone was at the uppermost edge of what her body could take, and she knew from a comparison they drew as the females giggled and talked that Dorian wasn't much different in size from her own mate.

Rowan continued to play with Aelin's neck and breasts as he hardened within her and her own body adjusted to accommodate the increasing girth. Once again she imagined how it must feel to have twice that inside her- and once again she decided witches had to have some kind of altered anatomy.

Aelin opened her mouth for Rowan as his kisses moved to her jaw. It was her sign that she was ready for him to move. He claimed her lips as they rocked in opposite directions- both motions combining to pull him from her and then drive his cock in hard and fast.

They moaned against one another's mouths. Aelin's legs wrapped around Rowan's backside as they'd strained to do while his hand was inside her. She reveled in the feeling of her mate filling her, his body perfectly tailored to hers. The gasp of emptiness when he drew out, the hard, forceful push of him as he drove back into her- it was the most incredible feeling in the world.

Rowan released her mouth when their shared breath turned harder and more pronounced. He rested his forehead against hers and released her breast so that he could cup her chin. Aelin's eyes burned into his as their bodies pushed one another closer to that wonderful release.

"Don't look away," Rowan whispered as Aelin's hips began to roll faster and faster.

She nodded and whimpered something that might have been agreement. Her body was curling into his thrusts, grinding the base of his shaft against her knot every time he pushed in.

Aelin's gasps and moans blended into a near constant cry. Harder and faster Rowan pushed into his mate, giving her everything she wanted. Still, they never broke eye contact. Not even when the air left her with a scream and her core rippled and quaked around his cock. Rowan smiled down at his mate and kept pushing hard and fast- both feeding her release and building towards his own.

"Don't look away," Aelin whispered once her orgasm broke. Just as Rowan watched her cum, she wanted to watch him.

Rowan managed a laugh, "I wouldn't dare."

At the last moment he grabbed her hips tight and rolled, pulling her on top of him and giving her full range of motion. Aelin grinned and planted her hands on his chest while she rode him with long, sweeping rolls of her hips.

He seized and cried out, staring up at Aelin with wordless desperation as heat and moisture flooded her. If anything she rose and fell on his cock harder, squeezed him tighter with her core, and drew every last drop of cum from him that she could.

Shaking hands grabbed Aelin's thighs and held her in place while Rowan's cock twitched once, twice, and finally fell still.

"Not glass." He laughed and pulled her down so that he could kiss her properly, "Pure fire."

"And don't you dare forget it," she laughed against his lips.

"I won't," Rowan swore. "Though… perhaps you should remind me again, just for good measure."

"Gladly."

By evening the building ache in her back and ribs would force Aelin to bed, not to rise again until Yrene was summoned, but it was worth it. Holding Rowan and spending a timeless afternoon in his arms was the greatest vengeance she could take against Maeve and Erawan's memories. To love in spite of the lingering darkness, to laugh though the echoing pain- that was their right as survivors.

Aelin couldn't know that in just a few short years even those echoes of pain would be a memory. She had no idea in those still-early if it was a temporary ailment or one that would follow her to the grave.

Still- she was fire and steel, not fractured glass. She held her mate close once their bodies were ready, and smiled brilliantly the next time he spilled himself inside of her.

Life, without shadow or fear.

The beginning of a centuries-long happily-ever-after.


End file.
